


Henry and Lewis

by jacaranda_bloom



Series: From The Heart [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Barista Harry, M/M, Writer Louis, coffee shop AU, harry is a dork, louis is a nerd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 14:14:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19358641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacaranda_bloom/pseuds/jacaranda_bloom
Summary: PART 1 SUMMARY: Louis hangs out in his local coffee shop to work on his weekly WordPlay Prompt, speaks to his beloved muse aka Harry the gorgeous barista, embarrasses himself in front of said muse, and receives a comment on AO3 from his favourite reader.SERIES SUMMARY: Every Tuesday, Louis spends his day off holed up in his favorite coffee-come-bookshop, writing his little stories as part of the WordPlay challenge while daydreaming about the resident barista, Harry. Each week a new word prompt is revealed and Louis adds to his series of short stories about Henry, the owner of a B&B in the Cotswolds who has curly hair and dimples, Lewis, his long term guest who just happens to be a writer, and Tigger, Henry’s cat.As Louis and Harry’s friendship develops, could his fantasy world spill out into real life? And how does that reader who leaves the lovely comments with the teacup emoji seem to be able to read Louis’ mind?





	Henry and Lewis

**Author's Note:**

> This is Part 1 of a 5 part series, From The Heart, written for the WordPlay 3.0 Challenge. It is essentially a chaptered fic so please read it as such. Thank you for choosing to embark on this little journey with me and I really hope you enjoy it. xx
> 
>  
> 
> This is part of a Wordplay prompt challenge for the prompt "foot". To read the amazing fics that were written by the others on this prompt, [click here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/foot), and to see all fics written as part of the challenge (including years 1 and 2), [click here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/wordplay_fic_challenge/works). You can also find the masterpost for this year’s challenge [here](https://wordplayfics.tumblr.com/post/185709101043/wordplay-2019-every-week-for-five-weeks-a-prompt).
> 
>  
> 
> Comments and kudos are always welcome. xx
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at [ jacaranda-bloom ](https://jacaranda-bloom.tumblr.com/) and if you’d like to reblog my [ Tumblr fic post ](https://jacaranda-bloom.tumblr.com/post/185841906193/from-the-heart-by-jacaranda-bloom-written-for-the) that would be lovely!

[ ](https://imgur.com/7O6w6fz)

 

It’s Tuesday. Louis loves Tuesdays. In his humble opinion, all the other days don’t hold a candle to his beloved Tuesday’s. To most people, it’s just another day to get past on the way to a more exciting day like a Friday which will kick off their weekend, or a lazy Sunday that they can spend wrapped up in bed binging on some Netflix series. Nope. Not him.

 

All week he waits patiently, eagerly even, for it to tick around, busying himself with writing mind-numbingly boring statistical analysis research papers or articles on the political landscape for whatever journal or publication or production company has engaged his specialist skills. 

 

But Tuesday is  _ his _ day. He gets to write what  _ he _ wants. Drabbles or ficlets for whatever universe has piqued his interest sufficiently for him to delve into and immerse himself completely. 

 

It’s like a breath of fresh air for his brain. A respite from the mundane and boring political landscape he usually operates in.

 

Louis pops the collar of his coat, pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and hikes up his backpack as he crosses the road. It’s quiet, the bustle of the morning work-day rush having died down, making way for the stroller brigade and grey-rinse-set to take over the little village square. The sandwich board outside his destination beckons him in with the promise of baked goods - lemon poppyseed muffins today, apparently - and specialty teas to wash them down.

 

The bell chimes above the door as Louis steps over the threshold, the warmth of the air and calm ambience washing over him with a familiarity he looks forward to each week. He wanders over to his armchair against the window, a little round table with a sugar bowl, a jar of teaspoons, and a small white porcelain vase with a single daffodil set out neatly to one side leaving just enough room for his tea cup and laptop.

 

He takes off his coat and lays it over the back of the chair, plonking himself down on the comfortable wingback, one of many scattered around the room. The furnishings are a hotchpotch of different styles and fabrics but somehow they all combine to create a perfect patchwork of relaxed ease. He takes out his laptop and opens it on the table, pulling his phone from his pocket and firing up his hotspot while he waits for the connection to sync.

 

It’s five to eleven and Louis casually glances up to the door just as the bell chimes, right on cue as always. Louis smiles and watches as Harry walks in, unwrapping his scarf from around his neck and ruffling his mop of unruly curls. Louis sighs and tracks his movements, long legs that go on for days, clad in tight black jeans that are ripped artfully at the knees. He’s wearing his three-quarter length woolen coat today, a black T-shirt revealed as he shucks off the coat on his way behind the counter.

 

“Hey Mildred, busy morning?” Louis hears Harry ask by way of a greeting, leaning in to place a kiss on the older woman’s cheek.

 

“Morning, love. Not too bad, usual crowd,” Mildred says as she wipes down the tray of the coffee machine. “Got a parents group coming in for lunch soon.”

 

“Ooohhh babies! Yes please.” Harry claps his hands together happily and it makes Louis smile. He’s such a lovely dork.

 

“I’m gonna go and get that sorted if you’re right to take over here?”

 

Harry pulls his hair up into a tiny top notch and even though it isn’t really long enough, it looks adorable. “Sounds good.”

 

Mildred leans in and whispers something to Harry and he glances up towards Louis. Louis looks away, cheeks heating up instantly, but not before he catches a glimpse of Harry’s fond smile. 

 

They’ve never really talked is the thing. Just the usual pleasantries when Louis gets his tea and food. But this man is truly something else. Louis thinks about him a lot. More than would be considered healthy if he’s being honest. He loves watching him interact with the customers, his friendly and flirtatious nature is infectious and he reels in everyone around him effortlessly, Louis included.

 

It’s been three weeks since he found his solace here in the coffee-come-bookshop, since he first saw Harry walk through that door, and Louis wonders if today will be the day they finally have a proper conversation. In a way, Louis enjoys just observing him, going about his work day, singing along to his eclectic playlist of indie tracks mixed with eighties classics and some seventies rock thrown in.

 

A Tumblr notification pops on his phone right on eleven o’clock. Louis feels a thrum of excitement surge through him as he taps on the alert and presses his thumb against the home key to unlock the screen. Foot.  _ Foot _ . Seriously? He sets his phone down and switches over to his laptop, bringing up the post and scanning over the rest of the text even though it’s not going to reveal anything he doesn’t already know. They’re the same instructions as every week but he reads them anyway.

 

**_Prompt Six: Foot_ **

 

_ Please remember: the word itself doesn’t need to be used, but it should be used as a prompt or focus for your fic in some way. There are no word count or other content restrictions, you simply must have your fic loaded into the correct collection by the deadline next Tuesday, June 25. I will make a post later this week with the link to the collection as well as other posting details, so please keep an eye out for that. Questions? Please let me know! Happy writing! _

 

“Hi,” a deep voice startles him from his reading and he snaps his head to the right where he is met with a taut stomach, wrapped in a black apron. He lets his gaze slide up the man’s torso, past his chest, to his beaming smile. Harry. Louis jerks to attention and hits his knee on the underside of the table, knocking his phone to the ground with a clatter. 

 

“Fuck.” Louis jumps up and manages to bump the table again, upending the jar of teaspoons and sending them careening over the edge. Good  _ grief _ . He drops to his knees and picks up his phone, crawling forward to collect the spoons. His face is heating up at record speed, even for him, which is certainly saying something, never one to be able to hide his embarrassment. He sits back on his heels and reaches up, placing the spoons back in the jar and then takes a deep breath. Well, this is going to be mortifying.

 

Louis gets to his feet and finds himself completely in Harry’s space, close enough to smell his sweet cologne and something else just under the surface, earthy and manly. Harry’s arms are spread wide, a tea cup in one of his enormous paws and a plate with a muffin in the other.

 

“Y’alright there, Louis?” Harry queries, the first name basis having been established during their initial encounter, Harry curious and friendly as ever.

 

“Oh! Yes. Yes I’m fine, thanks! Thanks for asking. Sorry about… uhm…” Louis thumbs over his shoulder towards the teetering-table-of-doom, his voice taking on a tone of hysteria so high pitched he barely even recognizes it. It’s the longest sentence he’s ever uttered to Harry and of course, it had to be as a result of him making a complete arse of himself. Good job. But when he meets Harry’s eyes he sees only kindness and he feels the tension ebb out of his bones.

 

“I brought you your usual tea and one of our special muffins, lemon poppyseed today, thought you might like it?” Harry says with a questioning tone and motions towards each of his hands in turn.

 

“My usual?” Louis is an idiot, he shouldn’t be allowed to speak to pretty boys with pretty hair and pretty lips.

 

Harry chuckles. “Yeah,” he sets the cup and plate down on the table and moves the jar of spoons which was dangerously close to the edge. “Yorkshire tea with a splash of milk. That’s right, isn't it?”

 

Harry straightens to full height again and Louis looks up. He hadn’t realized how much taller he was, the counter that is normally between them having altered his perception. He’s about a foot taller. A foot. Foot. Ohhhhhhh…. His brain kicks into gear. ‘Bout fucking time he thinks to himself. “Yes! Thanks for remembering.”

 

Harry smiles sweetly and nods toward Louis’ laptop. “You working on something? You’re always tapping away on that and looking serious.”

 

“Oh, yeah. I’m a writer.”

 

Harry’s eyes practically bug out of his head. “Really? That’s so cool. Anything I might’ve read?”

 

Louis sputters out a laugh. He doubts Harry’s read anything he’s written. His political analysis being immensely boring and his other writing, well, it’s even more niche if that’s at all possible. Although the thought of Harry reading his little, smut heavy fics sends a thrill up his spine. Now that’s something that will play on his mind. “I don’t think so. I mainly write boring political analysis, some short stories as well, that’s what I do on my day off.”

 

The bell chimes and they both glance over to see a group of four women and a man come in with prams, immediately upping the noise factor and disturbing their little bubble. “Well, looks like I’m up,” Harry says as he starts to back away. “I’d love to read some of your short stories sometime… if you’d let me?”

 

“Yeah, maybe? Thanks for the tea and muffin, Harry.”

 

Harry smiles and turns to greet the customers, bending down to peer into one of the prams and cooing like the adorable fool he is.

 

Louis sighs and sits down. He takes a sip of his tea and cracks his knuckles. Time to get to work.

 

~~~~

 

The words are flowing out of him at record speed today, spurred on by his interactions with Harry. After their initial conversation, Harry has been stopping by with more tea and little comments and whenever Louis looks up, Harry is more often than not already watching him with a fond smile. 

 

He’s been writing a series, instead of stand-alone fics, for the last three weeks of the challenge and the response has been amazing. They’re all centered around Harry as the main character, although he’s called Henry in the stories. Henry runs a small B&B in the Cotswolds and welcomes his guests with little baked treats and country hospitality. He has a cat called Tigger and a long term guest who is a writer, Lewis, who is staying for the summer to write his novel. Louis freely admits that his creative juices hadn’t exactly been overflowing when he had chosen the names for the main characters but it’s not like anyone in his real life will ever find his AO3 and join the dots. 

 

This week’s fic is going to move Henry and Lewis onto a new level of intimacy and set them up for next week where he’ll give his readers the smut they’ve been clambering for. They’re a passionate bunch, wonderful and so generous with encouragement and lovely comments that he finds so motivating.

 

He’s included aspects of Harry, what he’s been able to observe from afar, anyway. Little things; how he interacts with the customers, the way he moves, his smile, his eyes, his laugh, and certainly his physique. Goddamn. Louis could write about his body for thousands of words, actually, he probably has come to think of it.

 

The coffee shop buzzes around him as the lunch crowd cram into the empty spaces, chairs scraping on the floor, cutlery on porcelain, the coffee machine an almost constant whir in the background forming an undercurrent of familiarity. Harry’s laugh drifts over the top of the din, light and cheery.

 

The hours tick by and his words fill the pages effortlessly. Henry and Lewis are enjoying a bottle of red in the lounge, Tigger curled up tightly in front of the fire. It’s just them, no other guests due for two days to interrupt their little cocoon. Louis glances up to see Harry throwing his head back with a joyous laugh, neck elongated. He watches him and types out what he sees. His curls, his rosy cheeks, dimple popping, Adam’s apple bobbing, the smirk, the twinkle in his eyes. On the page, Henry is laughing at something Lewis has said, wittier and far braver than anything Louis himself could come up with. He’s a bit envious of Lewis, really.

 

Louis refocuses back on his work, re-reading and editing some mistakes he’d made while he was distracted. He doesn’t notice Harry come over until he’s standing right beside the table.

 

“Are you ready for some lunch, Louis?”

 

He looks up to find Harry standing with a plate of food and a knife and fork rolled up in a napkin. He glances at the time on his phone and is surprised to find that it’s already after two. “Shit. The day has gotten away from me a bit.”

 

“I uhm… I wasn’t sure what you’d be in the mood for but I got you some mushroom frittata and salad. It’s really good.”

 

Louis peeks over the edge of the plate and it smells fantastic. “That’s… thanks, Harry, that looks great but you didn’t have to… sorry for the trouble.”

 

Harry sets the plate down and spins it around. “It’s no bother, really. Things have calmed down a bit now.”

 

The silence stretches on between them and Louis feels a knot forming in his stomach. Should he keep chatting, should he ask Harry to sit down? God, he’s so crap at this whole human interaction thing. “Would you-“

 

The bell chimes and saves Louis from himself. “Oh. Duty calls…” Harry says but he sounds a bit disappointed. He lays his hand on Louis' shoulder and squeezes gently. Louis very nearly combusts at the simple touch. All too soon it’s gone and Harry is wandering back to the counter. Louis is in a bit of a daze and he lifts his hand to lay over the spot Harry’s hand had laid on him. It was the briefest of moments but Louis’ whole body is alight, thrumming with energy. He glances up to see Harry watching him and he pushes his glasses up his nose out of nervous habit.

 

~~~~

 

Henry and Lewis are now in the kitchen washing up their dishes from dinner. Louis had let them meander through backstory conversations while they drank their wine and allowed their inhibitions to lower without coming to a head, not yet. He isn’t ready to let them tip over the edge into a sexual encounter, but he’s building to it for next week. He needs to incorporate the _foot_ prompt so he had to get them standing for it to work. He manoeuvres Henry to reach above Lewis’ head to a higher cabinet, working in a playful comment about being a foot taller. Lewis turns on the spot and is met at eye level with Henry’s chest. He trails his eyes up to Henry’s and looks at him through hooded eyes. Louis needs to stop using the word eyes, it’s starting to lose all meaning, but he’ll go back and fix it later. He has Henry lower his hands and settles them on Louis’ shoulders. He bashes out something about the energy being charged between them, the air being sucked out of the room, the world stopping spinning on its axis. They’re all phrases he uses a lot, but there’s only so many ways to describe it. He’ll make it sound better and less cliched in the edit.

 

He’s happy with the story so far and feels that it’s moved on sufficiently. His word count is just over four thousand and he’s intending to hit five thousand for this part in the series but he’s got the rest of the week to tweak it. He reaches up with his arms and stretches out his back and he’s surprised to see it’s just gone six o’clock. Looking up he finds Harry pottering around sweeping the floor and upending the wooden chairs onto the table tops as he goes. The shop is closed and Louis realizes they’re alone, just the sounds of Harry’s playlist interrupting the silence of the room.

 

Harry is humming to himself and Louis rests his elbow on the table, chin in his hand as he allows himself to just observe him. He’s graceful and kind of reminds Louis of Cinderella. Hmmmm… that’s a thought that’s going to stick. Perhaps he should write a fairytale about Harry. He’d make a great Cinders. Louis doesn’t get long to admire him before he’s caught out, Harry turning and smiling at him, eyebrows raised. At this point the bar for embarrassment in front of Harry is so high he’s not even sure he could muster the wherewithal to be bothered. 

 

“Sorry, I’ve uhm… I didn’t realise it was so late,” Louis tells him and starts to pack up his things.

 

“That’s alright, Louis, I’m just cleaning up. I didn’t want to interrupt when you seemed so focused on whatever you were writing.”

 

“Yeah,” Louis says as he gets to his feet. “Lots of inspiration today…” He trails off and smiles to himself as he slides his laptop into his backpack. He hikes it onto his shoulder, pockets his phone, and picks up his empty teacup, wandering over to the counter.

 

Harry pops the broom out the back and returns sans apron and with his coat on. “Thanks,” he says and takes Louis’ cup, rinsing it in the sink and leaving it in the drainer. Harry turns and plants his hands on the counter. “I uhm… I already rang the till off for today.”

 

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry,” Louis says and fishes out his wallet to look for some cash but before he can find any Harry reaches over and covers his hand with his own. Louis freezes and looks up to see Harry’s shy expression.

 

“S’alright, Lou,” the nickname rolling off his tongue effortlessly, sending a spark of electricity through Louis’ veins. “You can just fix it up next week, yeah? Figured you’d be good for it.” Harry’s shyness turns into something more cheeky and he dimples a smile. Louis is such a fool for this boy.

 

“Of course, thanks, Harry. I’ll be back next Tuesday as usual.”

 

Harry nods in acknowledgment and gives his hand a squeeze. “Excellent. Well, let’s get out of here. You must have places to be and people to see?”

 

“Mmmmm… yeah.” He doesn’t, of course, but he’d prefer Harry didn’t know how boring his life actually is. He’s just going to head home and cook dinner, feed Snuffy, his cat, and then curl up in front of the tele with a glass of red. It’s not exciting, but it does him just fine.

 

They make their way over to the door, Louis in front and Harry turning off the lights behind them as they go. Louis goes to open the door but realises it’s locked just as Harry comes up and reaches over his shoulder to flip the bolt.

 

“Oh, I forgot my…” Louis says as he turns, but the words die on his tongue as he’s met with Harry’s chest at eye level. It’s like his words have leapt off the page and into reality and he would laugh at the absurdity of it but then he realises Harry has him caged with his big strong arm. There’s a hint of his sweet smelling cologne, the damp of his winter’s coat, and that other scent that he had smelled earlier in the day which assumes is just Harry’s himself all combining together and filtering into his nostrils. He lets his eyes slowly drag up from Harry’s chest to his neck, head tilted on an angle, a lopsided grin lifting the corner of his mouth. “Coat.” Louis finishes. “I forgot, my coat.”

 

“Mhmmm…” Harry says but makes absolutely no attempt to move. His eyes are darting around Louis’ face, to his lips and back up to nose, cheeks, eyes. Louis wants to lean in. Wants to feel Harry’s lips on his own. He wonders if they would be as soft as they look. As biteable.

 

A car whooshes by on the street outside and startles Louis from his thoughts. “Shit. Sorry,” he ducks his head, shaking it to snap himself out of his daze. “Coat…” He says and steps sideways out of Harry’s space. He grabs his coat and when he makes his way back over, Harry is already outside. Louis joins him and Harry locks the door.

 

“So, next Tuesday?” Harry asks, expression hopeful.

 

“Yeah, for sure. Next Tuesday,” Louis says and he wants to keep talking but his social skills, what there was of them to begin with, appear to have completely abandoned him.

 

“Okay, Lou, I’ll see you then.”

 

Louis nods. “Have a good week Harry.”

 

Harry pauses as if he’s going to say something, but then changes his mind. “Alright, I’m this way,” he gestures toward the village car park at the back of the shops.

 

“And I’m that way,” Louis points in the opposite direction toward to his flat.

 

Harry backs away, boots scraping on the pavement. “Happy writing, Lou,” he says with a wave of his hand.

  
“Happy barista-ing, Harry,” and what the hell is he even saying? Good lord. He’s supposed to be a writer for fuck’s sake, but the giggle it draws out of Harry is worth sounding like an idiot.

 

~~~~

 

Louis is always excited when he gets to post to AO3. He loves the sense of achievement of having put something new out into the world, something creative, a piece of himself. He’d posted to the collection on Sunday night as usual and it should be revealed in a few minutes, the mods are always on time - eight o’clock, Monday evening, every week. He’s not disappointed when his alert goes off indicating that his work has been revealed. He busies himself with updating his Tumblr fic blog post now that he has a published AO3 link and reblogs it before turning his attention to his Instagram and Twitter accounts, adding new posts and sending them out into the ether.

 

He’d managed to reach his five thousand word target but being a short fic, and part of a series that his readers are eagerly awaiting, it’s not long before the kudos and comments start coming in and it makes him smile.

 

He goes and showers and gets ready for bed, slipping on some comfy sweats and a loose, long-sleeved shirt, before settling back on the couch with his second glass of wine. He reads through the comments seeing that his readers are crying out for the next step which they can sense is coming. Calls for Louis to hurry up and get to the smut already are a common theme.

 

A familiar user name catches his eye. morethanwords_92 is always one of the first to comment on his stories and Louis is excited to read what they’ve said.

 

 _Wow. Well, you’ve done it again. Brilliant work as always. But I can’t help but wonder… are you this much of a tease in real life? I bet you are. You’d have to be to write like this. I really thought they would kiss in the kitchen, but you’re keeping us in suspense yet again. It’s funny though, not that I’m sure you’d care, but I kind of had a similar situation happen to me this week, and we didn’t kiss either. I was really disappointed but only had myself to blame for chickening out. Anyway, I can’t wait to see where you take things next week and what the prompt is. Hanging out for the smut I know you’re going to give us! I wonder whether you’ll go all-in, or hold back a bit. My vote is for a slam-against-the-wall, can’t-get-enough-of-you, make-me-beg-a-bit scene that has my toes curling but I’m sure whatever you do will be amazing and hot. Thanks again for writing and sharing your talent with us all. xx_ ☕️

 

Louis smiles to himself and shifts in his seat, feeling his cock rub against his sweats. He’d been thinking about how to approach the smut for a few days and hearing morethanwords_92 talk about the heat and passion they want stirs something in Louis. It’s what he wants too, both for Lewis and for himself and it’s like this person is reading his mind. Louis is dainty and curvy and he definitely has a nerdy vibe going on. The men he attracts tend to be of a certain type; big, broad, beefcakes. He wants to feel smaller and taken care of, but once these guys get down to it they’re all so timid it’s frustrating. He’s not made of porcelain. So while he keeps searching for what he wants in real life, he’ll channel his desires into his writing.

 

He clicks reply on the message and starts typing.

 

 _Hi and thanks for your comment! These make my day. Sorry for teasing you again, but I think you’re up for it._ 😉 _That said, the smut is definitely getting closer… I do like a bit of a rumble in the sack myself and I think these characters might like that too, but you’ll have to stay tuned to see what happens..._

_PS. I hope you get another chance for that kiss. xx_

 

Louis responds to more comments as they come in before he feels his bed calling to him loud enough that he can’t ignore it any longer. 

 

As he drifts off to sleep, images of a curly-haired, green-eyed man, with strong arms and a dimpled smile pull him under.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Parts 2, 3, 4 and 5 are now available and complete the series.
> 
> Comments and kudos are always welcome.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at [ jacaranda-bloom ](https://jacaranda-bloom.tumblr.com/) and if you’d like to reblog my [ Tumblr fic post ](https://jacaranda-bloom.tumblr.com/post/185841906193/from-the-heart-by-jacaranda-bloom-written-for-the) that would be lovely!
> 
> If you enjoyed this work you can subscribe [ here ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacaranda_bloom/) to be notified when new works are posted!


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